My mum, who is writing a fantastic book about our mutual "trailer trash" lifestyle changes (she and her partner bought a trailer in Mesa, Arizona, partly due to me saying JUST DO IT MOM), has asked for a "post script" about little Sooty. Sooty! Ohhhh....I still feel guilty, and think of her often.
Basically, after many phone calls and emails with the Blinman Mine Tour Office over several weeks, I had to accept that Sooty was gone from our lives. However, by all accounts, there were many sightings in the weeks after she jumped ship, and although they tried traps and food and calling, she'd gone native and seemed to be happily roaming the night lands of the Flinders with her kindred feral cat friends. So I imagine her living the life of a wild cat, with all its freedom and risks, and instead of a dusty old bus she has the wonders of the night sky, the quivering rustle of prey in the bush, her little ears alert; it may be a short life, but one that she lives with her senses and self unencumbered, a cat free to enjoy her catness.
But I miss her, and I hope that her journey's end, when it comes, is dignified, and that she is not afraid.
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